Settling in

31. Ch5 Sc9-10

Nov 17, 2023

Hi, my dear internet friends!

I have a bit to run by you today, but first - HAPPY BIRTHDAY KYLE! (Not to be rude, but - Kyle knows who he is, if you don’t, don’t worry about it, okay?😉😉)

Okay now, my bit… I’ve said before somewhere, that getting to know someone takes effort. I think this is one of my favorite pet peeves because people always act like getting to know someone is supposed to just happen organically and it either works or it doesn’t.

I, on the other hand, refuse to believe that you can get to know someone by accident. Think about it, you have to take an interest, pay attention, spend time together, find out what you have in common - that takes work.

If you like the person it is easier and you don’t really notice how much work it is but, I dare you, try to form a relationship with someone whose company you don’t particularly enjoy or have little in common with and you will very soon find out just how much work it is to form a close enough relationship to actually know them even superficially.

With that in mind, I would like to reframe any heated argument between people who know each other, be it a lovers’ tiff, sibling rivalry, or even frienemies…

If you have someone in your life who knows you well enough to push your buttons, you should cherish them. It takes time and attention to figure out which buttons to push for which effect. Yes, there are general hot buttons, but those don’t always work between friends, and friends wouldn’t use them in most cases anyway.

But think about that person who really gets your gears grinding, who knows exactly what to say to provoke a particular response… That one is special. That they know you well enough to predict that ‘this’ specific topic will get a reaction, means that they cared enough to learn that about you!

This brings me to my point: There is one thing I need to reconcile in this chapter, which is, how does one build a relationship that fosters that necessary closeness. How do you make room for someone new in your life? How do you go about forming that bond? Does it start with communal meals? Celebrations? Group activities? And how can you facilitate all that without two-way communication?

If you want to add anything, share something, maybe some advice or just a bit of snark, anything, I’d love to hear from you:

Leave a comment

As for the story:

Previously… After Logan discovers Elle in the Manor’s gym, fresh out of the pool, like a dutiful son, he takes her to Luke.

The deep scanner buzzes around the table as it takes its multilayered scans, examining every aspect of Elle’s physiology, from her bone structure and muscle density to her skin and cellular makeup. It even draws an energetic map, tracking how the energy in her body flows along her skin, forming a cocoon around her that lets very little Raw energy escape. She seems to be actively suppressing the amount that bleeds off as it is minuscule compared to the scans Luke took while she was still under.

Luke mutters as he works, wondering aloud why it took so long for her to wake, what changed between then and now, what triggered the sudden shift. He comments on how perfectly her body has repaired even the smallest trace of damage. It is puzzling, her body is immaculate, inside and out even though we know of broken bones that should show up on the scans. There should be evidence of scar tissue, cirrhosis, and lesions on her organs from the sedation. It’s all healed - there’s not a trace.

“She’s lucky.” I muse, thinking of all the scars and marks on my body from my various accidents growing up in a soldier and practicing martial artist’s household.

Father taught us all the basics from when we could walk. Luke encouraged us to keep up our training at the MMA club, and every mixed martial arts tournament he could find until we were old enough to understand what it would mean to be recruited by the PG if we kept showing our power. There were so many broken bones, cuts, and concussions, it’s hard to keep track.

Elle is unbelievably stoic for a kid. She lies still for over an hour while Luke interminably gathers his data. By the time he is done, I am half asleep, but Elle doesn’t even seem fidgety.

Luke’s machines make funny noises and lights. The whirring blades and attachments move constantly as he scans me from head to toe. I have never had to lie still for a machine before, but I endure, calling on painfully gained discipline while Luke satisfies his curiosity about how my body works.

Telerans are lucky. I know my body can maintain its functions under the most dire conditions. Unlike most Elder bodies, ours can heal almost any damage perfectly with the proper support, leaving no trace, it’s part of the Vital barrier. I have lost count of all the times I was flogged or cut up or broken and put back together again. I remember there was a time it seemed like they were trying to see how close to death they could push me, because of the exponential rise in power every time when I recovered. The only problem is that with every recovery came an overload and even James couldn’t always get me out of it quickly.

I wonder how much stronger I am now than I was before, and if I’ll ever get the chance to test it.

* * *

The high bars were my favorite activity in the gym back home. These are dismally basic compared to those. The gym at TTH was expansive and formidable, there were twenty bars at various heights, fathoms apart, and reaching the topmost one without cheating was a challenge that took me months to master even with James' help.

I have to develop a new routine to suit the four short low staves I find here but after a few tries, I manage to find a way to flip and twist between them without touching the mat or the relatively low ceiling while keeping a measure of my customary grace. As my body warms up my mind travels and I can almost imagine myself back there. It terrifies me.

* * *

"Hey, you lazy little slug!" I wince, from my perch on the sixteenth bar, thirty fathoms above the ground. Teag is angry again because I sent yet another hacker packing. With James away on an assignment he has been looking for ways to punish me, but his useless head-hackers aren't worth the name. I drop straight down to the mat cushioning the impact with a whisper of energy, just enough to avoid a broken leg. He notices and is not impressed. If I had done it right, he wouldn't have noticed.

I keep my eyes down. "Sir. Have I displeased you somehow?" I ask, the picture of obedience. His fist heads towards my right cheek and I brace for the impact, just enough to keep from going flying. My head snaps around, but I keep my feet and he smirks, satisfied.

"You will return to your cell, without dinner and await your lesson, to which you will submit without a struggle. Or I will flay you." He orders and I shrug, wiping away the trickle of blood from my split lip. Teag's threats are never idle.

* * *

I slip under the third bar, to catch the fourth, then hang by my knees and swing up to the top, hop back across to the third and slide down and grab it with my hands, use the momentum to bring my ankles up to touch the bar and flip around it again. I can feel the warmth of my blood gathering in my legs as I swing around and around, the flimsy rod bending even with my slight weight. I let go, tuck my knees in tight, and flip over, straighten out just in time to catch the first, then use the backswing to reverse my direction holding on with one hand, my other hand pointing and there is a slight pause before I start moving again.

For half a second, I am straight up relative to the ground, with my left arm outstretched and hanging from my right, my feet only half a pace off of the padded mat with my back to the doorway and something grabs my hand from behind. I am so lost in thought at that moment that I can’t completely stop the trained reflex in time, only slow it a bit, I whip around, my right foot extends to connect with Logan’s cheek, and he drops onto the mat with a spin even as I do.

I bend in close to check if he is still alive. He is lying on his stomach with one arm underneath and legs tangled up from how he spun around. He isn’t moving. I can see the tips of his shining white teeth and a thin trickle of blood drips out the corner of his mouth onto the gray mat. His curling black hair flops over his forehead covering most of his face, disturbed by the warm breath escaping his slightly parted lips. Alive.

I press my fingers into his reddening cheek, tracing the outline of my toes by his ear. The skin is soft and slightly prickly where the hairs have been shaved off, but I don’t feel anything grating so his facial bones are intact. Logan groans and screws his eyes up and I jump back.

My mind races with all the ways he might choose to punish me for attacking him. I really didn’t mean to. It was reflex, an accident! I stand still, eyes on the ground a few paces from him as he picks himself up. My hands fidget uncontrollably behind my back and I am breathing too fast. He will be angry. He will be justified. I messed up, badly.

As Logan regains his feet, rubbing his cheek and frowning, I await my punishment.

He steps toward me and I suppress the urge to cower. I peek up at him, forcing my frantic hands into fists at my sides. I will not flinch. I am ready.

He laughs. First a chuckle, then full on belly laughter, puts a hand on my shoulder and pulls me into a hug.

“Teach me to sneak up on you, huh?!” he says, still laughing and then turns to go. I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know what to do!

He leaves, without explaining, and with no idea what is expected of me, I continue my practice, thinking I might have done some damage after all.

“What happened to you?” Tom laughs when he sees me sitting at the dinner table. I put hand up to cover the purple bruise across my cheek and grit my teeth in irritation. He has been scarce the past three days since Elle woke up, avoiding me and Luke, so he won’t be roped into settling her in.

“Our dear Elle didn’t take Logan’s dinner invitation kindly, apparently.” Luke answers with a mocking snort, and chuckles into his bowl of pasta. Tom takes his eat opposite me at the table, grabs a plate and piles on a generous serving.

I skewer a meatball and shove it whole into my mouth so I have an excuse not to speak, as all the blood in my body rushes to my face, and I scowl at the both of them.

As we eat our delicious dinner, I try to put my chagrin at their jokes aside. I try to join in their levity, but I am too distracted.

They didn’t see how terrified Elle was. They didn’t see her standing there trembling, waiting for me to punish her as if she had done something unforgivable. It was clearly an accident, a reflex. What kind of violence it takes for someone to develop that kind of reflexes?

“What kind of reflexes, Logan?” Luke asks offhandedly, and even though I know he often unintentionally catches stray thoughts, my temper gets the better of me.

“Stay out of my head!” I push myself to my feet, stalk out of the dining room, leaving them staring and my half-eaten supper still on the table.

I understand their reasoning, by making me the go between, even letting Tom finish up with the gauntlet… Since I’m the empath, and she obviously seems attached to me I’m the logical choice for a chaperone, but they don’t have to mock me for it. She’s wild, has a history of neglect and abuse, and she is scary powerful even though she’s been keeping herself well in check so far. Medical tests are boring, aptitude tests are boring, I don't blame her for wanting to lose herself in the flow, to blow off steam. Luke is worried she might overdo it, but I think she’s just trying to escape from his never-ending inquiry. For a smart guy Luke can be incredibly obtuse.

I stop outside the closed double doors of the gym. It’s nearly nine o’clock and she’s still in there. Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way.

James explained: “The whole point of the routine is to correct the body's natural rhythm, without losing your internal sense of it. The irregularity, alternating your steps, skipping random bars, doubling back… Besides building strength, it’s all for the sake of eliminating repetition and structure in your movements, making them harder to predict. The purpose of the over-under movement is to heighten your awareness of the timing and rhythm. Recognizing it in the movements of others is something that could save your life when faced with a seemingly unbeatable enemy.”

All of the TTH trainers had their own styles and methods. James once explained that the curriculum was little more than a set system of goals and how each trainer ensured that their student reached them was their own choice. We had access to all of the equipment and resources of the facility, and it was up to each trainer to see to it that their trainee reached those goals within the set time frame. I had always known why Teag pushed me so hard. If I didn't reach the goals set for me, he would be the one to be punished, and with his student's condition, it was... difficult, to keep on schedule.

Logan’s presence outside the room brings me back to the present. It’s late, at least a few hours past sundown. He stays there outside for a few minutes, then leaves without entering. I wonder why he came this afternoon. I wonder why he is here now. What is it that they want from me?

I wonder if he had he been trying to stop me from practicing. If they don’t like me using their gymnasium, they could simply lock the gym’s door, or lock my door. I wouldn’t even try to break out, it’d just send a message. They can’t possibly know anything about my past, or about why Penance drives me to train. They don’t seem to want to control me. If they did, they would not leave me alone, like they do. I have had ample opportunity to escape. I’m not even guarded. These people are strange.

* * *

The next day, Logan is busy. He left me a tab and a note, saying his party plans that need attention will make it difficult for him to keep me company so I should play around with this thing and explore. It looks boring. A flat glass screen, three buttons and a few ports. I leave it on the nightstand, and hurry off to my four low bars, trying not to think about what I did. I do not succeed.

* * *

Logan is waiting in my room at night when I return there to look for the meal, they usually leave for me.

I frown when he greets me. The bruise is even worse today, a purple and blue blotch the size and shape of my foot.

He laughs, says something about a late dinner and holds out his hand. It is warm when he takes mine and leads me, down the stairs and left to the end of the hall below the gym.

There is another set of heavy wooden doors, twice my height. The wood is a deep red and the edges stained black. Logan glances back at me as I take in the same intricate mesh of vines and leaves then pushes them open and we walk into a room that I can only think of as a waste of space in a place like this.

I later learned that this is the main dining room, but in that moment, I saw only the Teleran Royal Council chamber that Teag had told me about. A great hall containing a long table which has a place for every General in the Teleran Royal Guard. There they would meet to discuss the state of our world and the security of the Royal Bloodline.

Luke’s dining room is only a little narrower than the gym. There are the same low hanging crystalline lights as there are in the foyer. The table is deep red with black edges, and the straight-backed chairs stand there all in a row, identical with their red and black pinstriped cushions. There is some kind of musical instrument, an ornate fireplace and a few easy chairs on the other side. There must be a hundred places here.

Logan invites me to take the seat beside his at the long table. Luke is at the head and Thomas sits across from us, all at the one end. As soon as we are all seated, servants appear from a side door and an elaborate meal is laid out in front of us, and I finally recognize the importance of the etiquette training that seemed so pointless all those years ago.

Even though the food looks and tastes like nothing I know, and the company is strange and a little uncomfortable, I can’t help but smile. I hardly notice the number of servants or array of cutlery or even the size of the room anymore, as they laugh and chatter, eating heartily, talking about what each of them did the day, and the progress being made on plans for some party.

They set me at ease. Tom asks if I like the carrots, and Luke wants to know if the roast is any good, and even though all I do is nod and smile they respond as if I were speaking in high praise. They make me feel welcome, as if I am one of them, and something awakens inside me that I thought had died long ago.

It is the first time I have eaten as part of a family since I was taken away from home, and it is wonderful.

Thanks for reading! I hope you’re enjoying following along with my Bottled Embers!

Next time… After her first family dinner, Elle starts to settle in, and the time for Logan and Tom’s birthday party approaches.

As always, the easiest way to ensure you never miss an installment is to click here:

for FREE! Also, interacting and engaging with you guys on anything to do with this story is one of the best parts of my week. I promise I would genuinely LOVE to know what you think so far, please feel free to:

Bottled Embers

Settling in

31. Ch5 Sc9-10

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